Red Club Temptation

by Marie Tuhart

  They made their way over. “What’s up, Evan?”

  “They’re asking for you in the private room, Jessie.”

  “Me? Why?”

  “The Dom didn’t say. Just said he wanted to speak to the owner and now.”

  Jessie wrinkled her nose. It had to be important. Very few patrons asked to speak to her. And it had to be a member of the club as they were the only ones who used the rooms. “Okay. Ryan?”

  “He asked for you alone,” Evan said. “We’ll wait out here.”

  She glared at Evan and then opened the door and walked in...and stopped short. There were candles everywhere. She saw the man standing across the room with his back to her, wearing black leather pants and no shirt, with a riding crop in his hand.

  Nice back, she thought before she shook herself mentally. “I’m sorry, but the candles are a fire hazard.”

  “Even for the one woman who makes me burn?”

  The door snicked closed. Jessie just stared at the man. “Caleb?” She’d know his voice anywhere.

  “Hello, Jessie-mine.” He faced her, and her heart began pounding.

  “What is going on?” She reached for the door knob and twisted. It was locked. How the hell had that happened? “I’ve been set up,” she whispered.

  “Guilty as charged.” Caleb strode across the room to her. Damn, her blood heated at the swagger of his hips. And the riding crop swatted against his leg with each step. Her pussy moistened. How would that feel on her ass? What the hell was she thinking? Where was her anger when she needed it? It flew away the second she saw him.

  “Why?”

  “Come sit and let me explain.”

  “Why should I?” She crossed her arms over her chest, battling the urge to throw herself into his arms.

  “Because I love you.”

  Her mouth dropped open. Caleb took her by the arm, led her over to the bed, and nudged her until she sat.

  “Caleb—”

  “Silence.”

  She jumped at the harshness of his voice, but when she gazed at his face, his eyes were playful. Oh, so that’s what he wanted. To play. Well, two could play at that game.

  “Sorry, but you lost the right to order me around.”

  “Did I?” His eyebrows rose. “You belong to me, Jessie.”

  “Not anymore.” Her gaze skittered to the floor and to the boots he was wearing. He stepped forward.

  “Liar,” he whispered, and the crop was dropped onto the bed. “I had to leave with Matt.”

  “You could have stayed.” She wouldn’t look at him. Instead she studied the high, polished boots, thinking how nice they looked on him.

  “Look at me, Jessie.” He cupped her chin and lifted her face until she could see into his eyes. “I went back with Matt so I could sell him my half of the business.”

  “What?” She wrenched herself out of his hold and jumped to her feet. “Are you out of your mind?” Her hands waved in the air.

  “I assure you I’m sane.” He grasped her hands in his. “The second I saw Matt sitting in your office, I knew what I had to do.”

  “But Caleb.” His fingers covered her lips, cutting off her words. His touch made her ache and want more.

  “No buts. It was time for me to get out of Chicago. Besides, I have a contract with you.”

  She shook her head, and he smiled. “I know you think I betrayed you, Jessie, but I didn’t.”

  He removed his fingers from her lips and she said, “You lied to me, and that’s just as bad.”

  “I won’t argue. I didn’t tell you the real reason I was here.”

  “No, Matt did that. So, did you figure it out and duplicate it?” She wanted to pull herself out of his hold, but every nerve in her body screamed at her to move closer. He was here and almost in her arms.

  “There was nothing to figure out. Nothing to duplicate.” Again his fingers gripped her chin and lifted her face to his. “Do you know what makes your club so special, Jessie-mine?”

  “No,” she whispered. There it was again, he called her Jessie-mine.

  “You make it special.” He slid his free arm to her waist and gathered her to him. “People are curious, but it’s your presence, your energy, that makes The Red Club special. There is no way to duplicate it, because you broke the mold.”

  “Caleb.” His name came out as a soft sigh.

  “I didn’t know what I was missing until I found you again, Jessie. It’s not just our playtime. I loved just being around you.”

  “But Matt and Chicago?”

  “Always in the back of my mind. The morning Matt showed up, I’d already decided to go back and sell out to Matt.”

  “How did he take it?” Her heart pounded harder in her chest.

  “Not well, but he didn’t have much of a choice. I was coming home. Home to you, Jessie.”

  Her eyes filled with tears. “Oh my, Caleb.”

  “And in full disclosure, Rusty and I had some long talks.”

  “You have? About what?” She drifted to him, letting him cradle her against his chest. Hope filled her.

  “About you. He’s the closest thing you have to a father, and I wasn’t about to ask you to marry me without talking to him first.”

  Her head snapped up. “Marriage?” Excitement flowed through her veins.

  “Yes, Jessie-mine. But first, I have to reassert my dominance.” He dropped a soft kiss on her lips. “Do you have something to say to me?”

  “Yes, Sir.” She wet her lips. “I love you.”

  “About fucking time. Now, hands on the mattress and ass in the air.”

  With a grin, Jessie sashayed over to the bed and took her position. Caleb picked up the riding crop. Anticipation ran up her spine.

  “Five strokes, Jessie-mine.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “And you will count them.”

  “Of course, Sir.”

  “And after each one you will tell me how much you love me.”

  Jessie turned her head to the side and smiled at him. “Naturally, Sir.”

  “And I will tell you how much I love you.”

  When they walked out of the private room an hour later, hand in hand, the private area erupted into cheers.

  About the Author

  Marie Tuhart can't remember a time when she didn't have a book in her hands. A voracious reader since childhood, she began writing at nineteen before getting her computer degree. When she isn’t reading or writing, Marie loves to spend time in bookstores. A world traveler, she enjoys searching out corners of the globe she hasn't experienced yet.

  Visit Marie at

  www.MarieTuhart.com

  To chat with Marie Tuhart and other Wild Rose Press authors of erotic romance, join us at www.groups.yahoo.com/group/thewilderroses.

  Also Available

  More Than One Night

  by

  Marie Tuhart

  Bartender Beth Grant has sworn off men after yet another failed relationship, but when a friend dares her to dance with a handsome stranger, she's tempted by the fantasy. Jake turns out to be dashing, charming, and very rich, everything Beth avoids. But she can't resist, and one dance turns into an evening of exquisite passion. Beth vows not to repeat a night like this, despite liking the mysterious Jake—a lot.

  Successful business owner Jake Masters knows he's met his dream girl the minute he lays eyes on Beth across the crowded dance floor. But the next morning she disappears and all he has is her first name. Jake vows to go to any length to get more than one night with Beth, and when he discovers she has a jaded past, he puts his heart and soul at risk to prove he's the one.

  Chapter One

  “Major hunk alert at eleven o’clock.”

  Beth Grant swiveled around in her chair at Raven’s Club to see who Carla was talking about and almost slid right out of her seat. Goose bumps shimmied up her body as her gaze wandered over him. Hunk wasn’t the word. Greek God was better. Midnight hair tossed by the San Francisco wind, nose slightly croo
ked, and full sensual lips. Her gaze continued down, a white dress shirt, sans tie, tucked into a pair of black slacks showing off his trim waist, down to a pair of expensive Italian loafers.

  At nine in the evening, he appeared as fresh as a spring day—and completely out of place at Raven’s Club.

  Raven’s was a casual place, South of Market street, where blue jeans and polo shirts were the norm for men. With the women it varied from dresses, to jeans and crop tops, to miniskirts. The club boasted a live DJ along with a minuscule dance floor. Most came to listen to the music, drink beer and mingle in the smoke free environment. But the noise level could sometimes reach deafening proportions.

  Her gaze followed the hunk as he sauntered to an empty table, admiring the grace and elegance he had in every step. He exuded power and confidence, and instinctively her thighs clenched because he was a man who could take a woman for one hell of a ride.

  One hell of a ride? What the hell am I thinking? Ogling men wasn’t her style. Besides, the last thing she needed right now was a man consuming her thoughts. Men were nothing but trouble and not a good kind of trouble either.

  Time to remember Beth’s Rules for Dating. One: No thinking about men. Two: No thinking about men. Three through ten: No thinking about men.

  Although this man did tempt her to do more than think, he tempted her to stare and touch.

  “I do believe the temperature in here went up,” said Karen.

  “If I wasn’t engaged, I’d love to get a piece of that man,” commented Carla.

  “Well, I’m not engaged or otherwise,” said Theresa.

  Mine. The word popped into Beth’s head, but thankfully she kept from saying it out loud. Her gaze stayed on the hunk. What was it about him? Other men were as handsome, but it was something more. Something raw, elemental, that called to the woman in her.

  A waitress sashayed up to his table, flirted with him while taking his order. But his features never changed, it was as if he didn’t notice her flirting. The waitress flounced away.

  Probably married with two kids at home. Beth couldn’t see his fingers to see if he was wearing a ring or not. But some men didn’t wear a ring.

  “Hey, Beth.” Karen waved her hand, with perfectly manicured nails, in front of her face.

  “Yeah.” She faced her friends who were all staring at her. “What?”

  The three women laughed.

  “Come on, Beth,” said Carla, Beth’s best friend and co-worker. “You were gazing at the man as if he were an ice cream cone in the middle of a heat wave.”

  Beth bit her lower lip, knowing her cheeks turned pink. “Hey, I’m a grown woman, aren’t I?” But she couldn’t explain to herself why she was tempted to forget her rules and get to know this man better.

  Was she lonely? No, she dismissed the thought of loneliness from her mind. A date wasn’t a cure for what ailed her, not that she knew what ailed her, except this restless feeling nagging her and her heart being empty.

  “It’s about time you unlocked the panty drawer,” said Theresa, slapping her palm on the table.

  “About darn time,” said Karen, playing with the fringe on her blouse.

  “Please.” Beth held her hands up in front of her. “Just because I haven’t dated anyone in the last few months.”

  “Try a year,” said Carla.

  “Keeping tabs on me.” She narrowed her eyes at her best friend.

  “Someone has to,” said Theresa and then everyone laughed. “You haven’t noticed a man in ages. We were beginning to think something was wrong with you.”

  “Or maybe you’d turned to women,” Carla gave the dry comment.

  Beth’s mouth dropped open. “What? No, I’m not interested in women. And just because Theresa and Karen date different men every night doesn’t mean I have to.” Snatching up her glass of wine, Beth sipped it, then seeing the looks on her friends face she realized she was being snippy. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m just a little tense tonight.”

  “And we know just the man to untense you,” said Karen with a smile.

  “Don’t you dare.” Her friends meant well, but the last thing she needed was a man in her life. But the image of the handsome stranger invaded her thoughts. What would it be like to spend the evening with such a masculine specimen?

  “You need to get laid,” said Theresa, leaning forward, a sly smile curving her lips.

  “Now wait a darn second,” started Beth.

  “I agree,” said Karen.

  “They’re right.” Carla placed her hand on Beth’s arm. “I’ve watched you at work every night. You talk with the men, they flirt with you but you never take them up on it. I know three, no, at least four of the regulars who would love to go on a date with you.”

  Beth rolled her eyes. “Just because men flirt with me doesn’t mean I have to flirt back. I’m happy with my life.” Liar. All right maybe a little white lie, but her friends didn’t understand.

  She’d seen too many men walk in and out of her life while growing up. Men don’t stay. So she didn’t see any reason to make an effort to get one. Beth wanted a lifetime and no man was going to give that to her.

  Shifting in her chair, she sneaked a peek at the hunk. He lifted the bottle of beer in front of him and took a long drink. His lashes slid shut as if in pure enjoyment of the cool liquid sliding down his throat. An ache swelled inside her when he caressed the bottle with his fingers. How would it feel to have his hands on her bare skin? Could he be worth the trouble he would bring into her life?

  “I don’t mean to be insensitive,” started Theresa. “But Don was six months ago.”

  “And Don just proves what terrible taste in men I have.” A shiver swept through her body.

  “Don was an ass, but he’s no reason to swear off men,” said Carla.

  “I haven’t. I don’t want or need a relationship,” Beth insisted.

  “Who said anything about a relationship?” Karen leaned forward and tapped her finger against Beth’s glass. “Honey, what’s wrong with some hot sex, no strings attached?”

  “I bet the hunk could create a wonderful sexual fire.” Theresa let out a sigh.

  “We don’t know who he is.” Beth reasoned. “He could be a serial killer for all we know.”

  “What a way to die.” Karen’s eyes twinkled in the dim lighting.

  “Ladies, please.” Carla snapped her fingers. “We have to remember Beth has been out of circulation for the last six months, and it’s been a year since she dated anyone but Don the loser. Maybe she needs some dating pointers?”

  Beth groaned.

  “Great idea,” said Karen clasping her hands together. “First, you’ll need to flirt with him. You know those little glances, the kind where he sees you gazing at him and you quickly look away only to glance back a second later.”

  “Then lick your lips to let him know you’re interested,” said Theresa.

  “And when he asks you to dance, don’t say a word, just slip your hand into his and let him take the lead.” Carla paused to take a sip of wine. “Then while dancing, make sure to brush up against him.”

  “He’ll get the idea, but don’t be too aggressive.”

  “No one is aggressive as you are, Karen.”

  “Shut up, Theresa.”

  Beth rubbed her forehead. She should have seen this coming, not only were they celebrating Carla’s engagement but Beth’s thirtieth birthday. While her actual birthday was tomorrow, her friends said a woman must have one wild fling before she turned the big three-oh and had to settle down.

  “I never said there was anything wrong with flirting or sex.” Beth picked up her wine and drank.

  “Thank God for small favors,” said Karen, leaning forward to tap her fingers against the back of Beth’s hand. “But you’re not going to do anything about the hunk unless we do something drastic.”

  Beth didn’t like the sound of that. Her friends meant well, but they didn’t understand how she preferred her uncomplicated life.

&n
bsp; “I propose a bet,” said Karen.

  “Bet?” Oh no, not a bet. A bet could get her in trouble.

  “Yes.” Karen fluffed her hair. “I bet you can’t let go.”

  “Clarify, please.” The sudden urge to shock her friends by doing something out of character appealed to her, but she was still cautious. “That is, if I decide to take this bet.”

  Karen sat forward. “Do not censor yourself or your sensuality. Let it all go.”

  “What does that entail?” Nibbling her lower lip, Beth wondered if she could do this. She knew her trust in men was lacking, but her thoughts around the hunky man across the room didn’t care.

  Theresa smiled and touched Beth’s hand. “Ask the hunk to dance and let nature takes its course. And nature will if you don’t freeze up on him.”

  Freezing wasn’t an option. The hunk made her hot. She wiggled in her chair. Her pussy was already growing moist and her nipples ached. She was prepared for more than just a dance. But what if she couldn’t do it?

  “What happens if I don’t accept the bet?” If she couldn’t go through with this, she wanted to know the alternative, her friends always had an alternative.

  “If you don’t ask him to dance, then we get to place your personal ad on the ‘Mate Finding’ website,” said Theresa.

  Beth groaned. Her friends would do it, too. “And what do I get if I dance with him?”

  The three women glanced at each other before Carla spoke up. “We’ll clean your apartment for the next month.”

  “Including the bathroom?” Beth hated cleaning the bathroom; it came from all the years as a teenager when she had to clean up after her mother’s lovers.

  Carla nodded.

  “Tempting offer.”

  “Does that mean you’re accepting it?” asked Theresa.

  Beth stayed silent. How daring did she feel? She glanced over at the hunk and her heart sped up. What could one little dance hurt? It would be nice to be held for just a little while.

  Think of it as a birthday present. If it ended with just the dance then so be it, but if it turned out to be more…no one said it had to be more than one night. Since it was only one night her emotions wouldn’t become engaged, she wouldn’t lose her heart. She could handle one night. She needed this one night just to rid herself of her loneliness.